


i wrote my own deliverance

by QueenWithABeeThrone



Series: city of the future (or: the hamdevil au) [5]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, Possibly Pre-Slash, Scandal, The Daily Show - Freeform, Trolling, political discussions, so much trump shade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 06:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7210976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenWithABeeThrone/pseuds/QueenWithABeeThrone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i><b>The Daily Show</b> @TheDailyShow</i>
  <br/>
  <i>@adotham and @RealCaptainA talk about #MakeAmericaGreatAgain. on.cc.com/1sWMn6t</i>
</p><p>or: Alexander Hamilton starts a fight, trolls a friend, and starts another fight with a senator this time. business as usual for Nelson & Murdock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wrote my own deliverance

**Author's Note:**

> takes place some time after Alexander's birthday.

The thing about Alexander Hamilton, Karen finds out, is that he’s like a goddamn sponge--ask him about a topic he doesn’t know about, and the next day not only does he know it inside out, he has Opinions about it that he’s absolutely willing to defend with both words and fists.

More the former than the latter, these days, but _sometimes_ \--well, Karen really wishes she wasn’t the only member of the Nelson & Murdock PR department.

Anyway.

“What the fuck is this?” she asks him one day, very carefully putting her phone down on her table. It’s displaying the latest viral video featuring Alexander Hamilton, of which there are _many_ , and he’s standing on a table talking right over someone from Fox News about the Constitution and freedom of speech and getting in personal digs at the man, finishing off with a solid right hook when the guy says something about Alexander’s mother.

“Me demonstrating my right to freedom of speech,” Alexander says, not looking up from the notes he’s making. His laptop’s playing a _Star Trek_ episode, the volume low, and Sulu’s waving a foil around. Any other day, she'd be proud of both him and herself. “Since he also demonstrated his right to it by implying I was out of my depth in the discussion. Also, by dragging my _mother_ into it.”

“Did you have to call him a scum-sucking piece of shit from the sewage given human form, though?” Karen asks. “Right to his _face_?”

“I didn’t challenge him to a duel, I don’t see why you’re so worked up over it,” says Alexander, still not looking up.

Karen lets out a breath, then says, “Because it’s all over the Internet and it’s making my job harder!” She waves a hand at her phone, and says, “You’re a lawyer and a founding father, you should be more _professional_.” She pauses, then adds, “And don’t say anything about Matt. Matt does not count here.”

Alexander shuts his mouth, and looks up now. “He was saying I didn’t know anything about current issues,” he says, “because I died in _1804_. Tell me that’s not the biggest pile of shit you’ve ever heard, because I know more about the Constitution than he ever could. _I defended the fucking thing_. I know its faults better than anyone.” There’s an undercurrent of rage underneath his tone, the one Karen knows means a very personal button’s been pressed. “I can’t just let him _say that_ to my face. And dragging my mother into it--”

“I know,” she says. “I _know_ , because I have seen you staying up late reading about--constitutional rights, and freedom of speech. I’m saying, you didn’t have to resort to personal attacks like he did, because I just got a call from his lawyer, and he’s going to sue you for defamation. Also, assault.”

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true!” Alexander says, standing up and slamming his hands down on the desk. “That _fucking_ \--”

“ _Alex_ ,” Karen snaps. “Look, we’re going to dig up as much dirt as we can on this asshat and you can run rings around him and his lawyer in court. But for fuck’s sake, Alex, next time, could you not cause a scandal on national TV next time? _Please_?”

Alexander sighs, then sits down. “Yeah, that’s--fair,” he says. “Daily Show from here on out. No more Fox News.”

“Thank you,” says Karen.

–

The next video to go viral is Alexander Hamilton and Steve Rogers acting as guest correspondents on the Daily Show.

“And on the topic,” says Trevor Noah, “of Donald Trump and Making America Great Again, we have temporally-displaced guest correspondent Captain Steve Rogers--” he pauses to let the eruption of applause subside, “--here to make it clear whether this is actually possible.”

Steve walks into view wearing a pleasantly tight shirt, the backdrop of his section of the screen a USO stage, and says, pleasantly, “Well, Trevor, if by great he means _back to the 1800s except with indoor toilets_ , then I guess you could say it’s possible.”

“Hey!” Alexander yells, marching into view as well. The backdrop of his section is that of the Constitutional Convention, clashing with his sunglasses and “REBEL SCUM” t-shirt, hidden poorly underneath his more period-appropriate green coat. “I’m _from_ the 1800s, we’re still trying to build a goddamn nation over here, we don’t need _his_ bullshit on top of the debt and the banks and the slavery issue and _Thomas fucking Jefferson_!”

“And Mr. Alexander Hamilton,” says Trevor Noah, “Constitutional expert, Founding Father, and scourge of Fox News reporters and Jeffersonians everywhere.” He pauses, glances to the side, and stage-hisses to someone off-screen, “ _Who let Alexander Hamilton on the set, did we forget the last time?_ ”

–

 **The Daily Show** _@TheDailyShow_  
@adotham and @RealCaptainA talk about #MakeAmericaGreatAgain. on.cc.com/1sWMn6t

–

 **NELSON:**  
CAPTAIN AMERICA

 **A. HAM:**  
i know right  
they got him in a tight shirt and my dreams came true all at once

 **NELSON:**  
did you think i wouldn’t notice  
you lucky asshole  
also what’s with the sunglasses

 **A. HAM:**  
let me ask you a question  
if captain america was in front of you wearing a very tight shirt and talking shit about trump  
what would you do

 **NELSON:**  
dude, i am applauding you right now

–

Alexander Hamilton’s a goddamn sponge.

Foggy finds that out--pretty early on, in fact. The man had figured out the Internet and current laws and pop culture in record fashion, after all, and these days he’s got his phone in his pocket at all times. Plus, the guy wrote a financial system into existence. Foggy figures Alexander’s always been something of a sponge, soaking up whatever information he’s exposed to.

What he finds out later on is that Alexander Hamilton is also a goddamn _troll_.

And--to his sheer embarrassment--he only finds this out after Karen says, while they’re standing in line for some very expensive frappuccinos, “So hey, a funny thing happened while you were out of town last week, Bucky Barnes showed up and dropped off a Bucky Bear for Alex--”

Foggy freezes in place. “Wait,” he says, “back up a second. _Bucky Barnes_ dropped off a Bucky Bear for Alexander Hamilton? Like, _personally_?” He can hardly believe the things that come out of his mouth, these days. But also, more to the point: “He said he didn’t know what it was when I asked him!”

“He didn’t know it was a Bucky Bear, no,” says Karen.

Foggy cuts her off with, “He said he didn’t have any clue what I was talking about when I asked him where he got the _teddy bear_.”

Karen stares at him for a long moment.

Then she breaks into a fit of hopeless, heartless giggling, gripping on to his suit jacket to keep herself from falling over.

–

 **Foggy Nelson** _@fnelson_nm_  
@adotham is a LIAR oh my GOD

 **Foggy Nelson** _@fnelson_nm_  
“no I don’t know what a teddy bear is” WELL I HAVE RECEIPTS FROM @karen_p THAT SAY YOU DO

 **A. Hamilton** _@adotham_  
@karen_p why did you betray me like this does our friendship mean NOTHING

 **A. Hamilton** _@adotham_  
@fnelson_nm also that’s rich coming from the guy who told me National Treasure was a documentary

–

Matt is used to being underestimated. People don’t tend to pay much attention to the obviously blind man, after all, and if, in the course of his occasional investigations, he finds himself in, say, a room full of suspicious thugs all pointing guns at him-- _well, sirs, I’m so sorry, I was actually trying to find the bathroom, clumsy me, right?_

“I don’t know what’s more terrifying,” says Alexander, when Matt gently bullies him into eating something that’s not a deliciously non-nutritious bribe from a desperate student or leftover takeout, “the fact that they all pointed guns at someone very obviously _blind_ , or the fact that they all fell for your act.”

“Welcome to the 21st century, I guess,” says Matt, dryly, sipping at an organic smoothie. They’ve got their own table at a small bakery that smells really damn good, and he thinks the baker’s making chocolate croissants right now--he can smell the chocolate from here. “Anyway, I got what I wanted, and we won the case.”

“Yeah, I know, I was there when the judge said _Not Guilty_ ,” says Alexander. He props his elbow up on the table and rests his cheek on his hand, hair brushing over his fingers. Metal scrapes against porcelain--he’s finishing up with the pasta, thinks Matt. “Though, seriously, don’t go wandering into criminal hideouts and then try to brush it off by asking where the bathroom is. How are you not _dead_?”

“I’m a contrary bastard,” says Matt.

“Say that again,” says Alexander, pulling out his phone. “I’m gonna make it my ringtone.”

“ _How does a bastard orphan son of a_ \--”

“You’re a goddamn asshole,” says Alexander, but Matt grins when he hears the fondness in his tone.

–

Less fun thing about the whole handsome blind man with super-senses thing:

Parties.

Nelson & Murdock, as a rule, does not often get invited to Parties with a capital P. Rooftop potluck parties, sure. Birthday parties for all four members, yeah. The occasional “ _Jesus Christ we didn’t die we went up against the mob for the sixth time in three months and we didn’t die_ ” celebration at Josie’s, yeah.

But Parties, with gowns and tuxedos and champagne flutes and dancing?

It’s just--not a thing that Matt’s ever thought about.

But apparently, when you’re hanging around with an actual founding father--who spent most of yesterday bored and texting you about why he thinks all the _Game of Thrones_ theories flying around are bullshit--you get to go to Parties that he gets invited to.

For example: a fundraiser for war veterans. The sort of thing, thinks Matt, that Alexander Hamilton--a veteran of war himself--would want to come to, though why Alexander brought him along and not, say, Karen or Foggy is beyond him.

Speaking of Alexander, he’s across the room right now, chatting up Steve Rogers like nobody’s business. Matt catches a few snatches of conversation here and there-- _immigration reform_ and _is Ted Cruz actually a serial killer_ and sentences starting with _in my day_ \--and then lets his attention drift away from them.

Then--

“Mr. Hamilton, welcome home!”

Yeah, Matt recognizes that voice. James goddamn _fucking_ Wyatt, the slimy piece of shit, he can practically smell the overpriced and overpoweringly bad cologne from here. Some small, animalistic part of Matt all but hisses at the thought of Senator Wyatt near Alexander, because Wyatt’s rep for being a creepy asshole reaches all the way down to the people the man deals with for his little side projects.

Also, because, goddammit, Alexander’s one of Matt’s _friends_ , and he has precious few of those.

“I’m sorry, do we know you?” says Captain Rogers, tone frosty. Good man, thinks Matt, putting his wine glass down on the table and picking up his cane.

“Oh, Captain Rogers!” Wyatt says, breezy as anything. “It’s such a pleasure to see you here as well. Remember the fundraiser last year, the one for that little orphanage in Sleepy Hollow?”

“Oh, yeah,” says Captain Rogers, but his tone is still cold as ice.

Alexander’s gone quiet, his heartbeat ratcheting upward. That’s not good. That’s _never_ good, and Matt starts tapping his way up.

“It was so lovely to meet you there,” Wyatt’s saying, the slimeball, “and now here we are again! And you’ve brought Alexander Hamilton himself with you, it is such an honor, sir. I’ve seen the musical six times by now!”

“Senator Wyatt,” says Alexander. “Yeah. I’ve heard of you.” A huff, then, “Mostly, I’ve heard of you in conjunction with this religious freedom bill that you’re supporting.”

“Oh, yes, that,” says Wyatt, sounding smug as anything. Matt’s blind and he’s pretty sure Alexander’s winding up for a punch, which is--not going to end well for all involved. “The Freedom of Conscience act? I know it’s very controversial, but I think we need a bill like that. We’ve got to protect the moral convictions and religious beliefs of people from government interference. I mean, this is America! Don’t we, therefore, have the right, nay, the _God-given obligation_ to protect the convictions and beliefs of others?”

“You mean to say that as long as you can justify it with protecting religious freedom, you and yours are gonna keep shitting on people like me,” says Alexander.

“Oh, come now,” says Wyatt, “doesn’t the First Amendment say--”

“ _I know what the First Amendment fucking says_ ,” Alexander snaps.

 _Oh, boy_ , thinks Matt.

“I also know about the Reynolds case,” Alexander continues, and the sound of him stepping closer to Wyatt practically echoes in Matt’s mind. “I also know about a little thing called the compelling interest test. Ever heard of that, Senator Wyatt? Ever used it?”

“Captain Rogers,” says Wyatt, “surely--”

“All due respect, Senator,” says Captain Rogers, with no small measure of vindictive satisfaction, “I think I’ll take the side of the guy with the hit musical about him.”

“I can refresh your memory, since you seem to be having a few problems with it,” says Alexander, just as Matt very unsubtly smacks his cane--hard--into Wyatt’s shin. Wine splashes, Wyatt curses, and Matt summons up the most innocent look he has.

“Oh, my god, I am _so_ sorry, sir,” says Matt, holding his cane close to his chest. “Are you all right? I didn’t ruin your shirt, did I? Here, let me--”

“Hell yeah, you did," spits Wyatt, "you _fucking_ \--”

“The man is blind, Senator Wyatt,” Alexander snarls. “He also happens to be my plus-one, my employer and my friend, so if you finish that sentence, rest assured, I'm gonna make sure you’ll be laughed outta here by the end of the night and out of a job by the end of the _week_.”

Wyatt gulps, audibly.

“Sir,” says Captain Rogers, stepping forward now, “I think it’s best if you--take a break. Clearly you have quite a lot on your plate, and I’d be happy to escort you back to your car.” It’s complete bullshit, Matt realizes, because underneath Rogers’ mild tone, there’s a restrained sort of anger aimed right at Wyatt. Not surprising, he thinks, considering the man's well-publicized relationship with Sergeant Barnes.

“I--I suppose so,” says Wyatt, begrudgingly, and lets himself be led out of the ballroom.

–

Alexander drags Matt out onto the balcony just as the dancing starts up again and says, “So how expensive do you think his shirt was?”

“It was silk,” says Matt. “Very expensive. What did it look like?”

“He had red wine and he went and spilled it all over himself, it looked like a fucking masterpiece, wish I snapped a photo,” says Alexander. “He looked like he had constipation, I wish you could’ve seen it. Seriously,” he adds, “guy was a smarmy little shit. What did you do?”

“Smacked him on the knee,” says Matt, a corner of his mouth turning upward in a lopsided smile. “Not that hard. Just, you know, hard enough to get him to buckle.”

“Remind me never to get into a fight with you,” says Alexander, looking out. The ballroom’s at the very top of a very high building, and far below, he can see the flow of New York traffic at night. “Well. Not a physical fight. I know for a fact that I could totally take you in an argument.”

“I’d be happy to challenge that perception,” says Matt. “Hey, when did you hear about the religious freedom act?”

“I have Google alerts,” says Alexander. “And Twitter. I read the news, Matt, I don't just have Twitter for the hell of it.”

“And apparently,” says Matt, “you read up on religious freedom as well.”

Alexander shrugs, leans on the balcony’s railing. “I figured I’d probably get into an argument about it at some point down the line,” he says, “and I needed to back it all up. I thought I’d be getting into it on _Twitter_ , though, not at a fundraiser.”

“Look at it this way,” says Matt, “you didn’t cause an incident.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” says Alexander, rolling his eyes. “I don’t always cause _incidents_.” Not like the sort Matt causes, he thinks, down in the streets and sewers of Hell's Kitchen.

“You punched a man in the face on national TV and he tried to sue you for defamation and assault,” says Matt, dryly.

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” says Alexander. “The only thing I did to provoke legal action was punch him in the face.”

“That was pretty good, though,” says Matt. “Foggy described it for me, he said it looked like you’d been taking lessons.”

“I,” says Alexander. He pauses, looks back up at the sky. “Yeah, I kinda have been.” He’s always known how to punch, but then he’s always been more of a street brawler, in terms of hand-to-hand. And he’s getting too old to get into street brawls these days, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it.

“From who?”

“You’re not gonna believe me.”

“Try me,” says Matt, and there’s something dangerous in his smile. Alexander thinks of John, quite suddenly, the way he seemed to chase after something bigger than himself, always. _Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori._

“YouTube,” says Alexander, the smile fading as he watches Matt. Hell’s Kitchen is going to burn him out, he thinks, if it doesn’t kill him first. When’s it not sweet and right, he thinks, to die for one’s country? For one’s _home_? “There’s a tutorial for everything. You know there’s one on boxing?”

“I have got to stop being surprised,” says Matt, with a soft chuckle. “You know I can teach you, right?”

Alexander blinks at him, straightens up. “What, seriously?”

“Yeah,” says Matt. “Karen’s already bullied Foggy into taking taekwando, you’re pretty much the only one left that I can teach.”

Alexander says, “Where do I sign up?”

–

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> the Reynolds case that Alexander refers to is the [Reynolds VS United States](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reynolds_v._United_States) case in 1878, where in George Reynolds was found guilty of bigamy. according to Wikipedia, it's a case that "held that religious duty was not a defense to a criminal indictment." also, Alexander prob found it kinda funny that George Reynolds shares a name with James and Maria Reynolds.
> 
> [here](http://moses.creighton.edu/csrs/news/s98-1.html) is something about the compelling interest test. to quote: "When a law threatens certain fundamental rights, the laws defenders assume the burden of proof to justify it. They have to convince the court that (1) the challenged law served not just an important public purpose, but a genuinely compelling one; (2) the law was well tailored to achieve that purpose, and (3) the purpose could not be achieved by some less burdensome method. This method of argument is called the compelling state interest test."


End file.
